Johnnie Walker: Radioâs rock ânâ roll pirate
Johnnie Walkerâs long radio career was shaped by his early years as a pirate broadcaster in the 1960s, bobbing around on the ocean on Radio Caroline.
Even 50 years later, his wife Tiggy would refer to him as âthe pirateâ.
It remained more than apt, given that his subsequent time on mainstream radio was marked by more than a few battles with the bosses.
Rebel spirit
His DJ career began at the age of 21, when he was first given a chance to play records on âSwingingâ Radio England, a boat moored four miles off the Essex coast.
In return, they asked that he change his name â from Peter Dingley to the rather more rock ânâ roll-sounding Johnnie Walker.
The boat was one of a number of floating stations that had taken advantage of a loophole in the law that allowed them to get round the BBCâs monopoly on the UK airwaves to bring the sound of 60s pop to the nationâs radios â something the BBC had up to that point largely resisted.
Walker took to the rebel spirit. His years at public school had fostered a loathing of authority, and he had gone out of his way to fail his O-levels. Radio allowed him to embrace his passion â music â especially the rock, soul and underground sounds that were not making it to the top of the singles chart.
Occasionally, he would row across to another boat, Radio London, to chat to a kindred spirit, a young DJ who was beginning to make a name for himself, John Peel.
It wasnât tea he was talking about
Walker then moved to the pirate mothership, Radio Caroline.
His style was laid back, conversational and a contrast to the highly formatted slick patter of many other DJs.
That attitude may have had something to do with his favoured means of relaxation on board. He even had an on-air code â he said the boat was running short of tea to signal that they were running out of his preferred type of herbal cigarette.
His time on board also coincided with the governmentâs decision to crack down on the pirates. Walker was on air at midnight of 14 August 1967, when the law making the pirates illegal came in to force.
He read out a defiant speech declaring: âWe belong to you and we love you.â His reputation as a symbol of the spirit of the pirates was assured.
Undone by the Bay City Rollers
However, in 1969 he switched sides and joined the establishment, BBC Radio One. It was not the easiest of relationships.
He was, he said, accused of being âtoo into the musicâ. He would pepper his shows with album tracks and songs outside the approved playlist.
When he championed Walk on the Wild Side, Lou Reedâs song about sex, drugs and transgender bohemia, his BBC boss had questions. It only stayed on the playlist because they had never encountered the phrase âgiving headâ.
Walker also loved Bruce Springsteen and the Eagles; Chirpy, Chirpy Cheep, Cheep, not so much.
The cheery, cheeky sound of 70s mainstream radio was not his thing. At one Radio One event, he and Peel remembered watching, stunned, as fans of the Bay City Rollers brought chaos.
âBay City Roller fans were jumping into the lake to be near their idols who were in a boat. John Peel turned to me and said, âJohnnie, take note, this is one of the most bizarre sights you will ever seeâ.
âAnd then speeding into view came Tony Blackburn in another boat, being steered by a Womble.â
Cocaine, court and punk rock
Not long after that, he parted company with Radio One after describing the Bay City Rollers as âmusical garbageâ. He decided to leave for the freedom of US radio. It had its ups and downs.
KSAN in San Francisco, with its relaxed FM rock playlist, seemed a perfect match until punk came along. It was not to the managerâs taste and Walker was soon looking for work elsewhere.
His sideline of sending pre-recorded shows back to Radio Luxembourg also came to an end when he played a record at the wrong speed.
By the early 80s, he was back in the UK and on the dole.
His return to the airwaves included a spell in independent local radio before he returned to the BBC. He again came a cropper at BBC GLR after saying there would be dancing in the streets when Margaret Thatcher resigned as prime minister in 1991.
But, despite the setbacks, he eventually found a home at Radio 2.
However, that almost came to an end when the News of the Worldâs infamous fake sheikh staged a sting in 1999 and got him to reveal his drug habit. It was, he said, his lowest point. But after a trip to rehab, a ÂŁ2,000 fine and a promise that he had changed his ways, he was allowed back on to Radio 2.
And that is where he stayed. He was even awarded an MBE.
Sounds of the 70s
The music that had been frowned on by the bosses in the 70s was now classic rock and he had a loyal fanbase who recognised him as one of their own.
Being âtoo into the musicâ had paid off, he was now the authentic voice of the Sounds of the 70s.
He presented the show of that name, and Radio 2âs Rock Show, until health problems forced him to retire in October, after 58 years on the air.